


different sides of love

by crestedhearts (orphan_account)



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24828460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/crestedhearts
Summary: Mammon gets jealous of Lucifer.
Relationships: Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 20
Kudos: 295





	different sides of love

**Author's Note:**

> a request from tumblr.  
> you can also make a request @devilishsahbi for more obey me content! enjoy!

GREED. IT WAS HIS SAVING grace, his addiction, his curse⏤he desired all that the world could give him, wanted nothing more than to have his pockets full of grimm and still not have enough to satisfy his wants and needs. At least, that was what he told himself, until that greed, the pivotal part of his sin, became skewed towards something else.

His greed now extended towards you. Your smiles, fond hugs even though he pushed you away, the sleepy jokes you'd text him at night, even the barest glance in his direction. All of it. He wanted all of it and more, more than you would ever give him, because he desired more than just kind words and sweet reassurances from you.

He wanted your love.

For him, the words would never come. He expressed it in other ways, as often as he could, even if you didn't notice or know it was him. A little extra grimm in your wallet; some food hidden from Beel during his kitchen raids; text messages late at night when you couldn't sleep through the devildom storms, even when he was dog tired and unable to keep his eyes open; and when you were awake writing essays, the faintest glow of your pact mark upon your hip even if you didn't see it.

Mammon could feel it, sometimes, if he tried hard enough, when you traced it with your fingers. Felt your touch like a hot, iron brand, because while he had the ability to stop it, to not get feedback from the magic that bound you, he didn't want to. It both tortured him and pleased him to know that you acknowledged the mark at all, even if it was absentmindedly touching it out of habit.

So when Lucifer stepped in and changed made his interest in you known, it pissed him off. All in the span of a week, the most powerful of them had shifted gears the moment he sensed competition and had made it a point to draw your attention to him, to engorge his pride as the eldest⏤and the eldest got everything he wanted. Power. Prestige. Fear.

At dinner, when Mammon's boiling point reached a peak, Lucifer made his final move. It was as Asmodeus was lecturing Beel on getting oil in his pores and everyone else was listening to the conversation, laughing, that he spoke up. Mammon could make out the words, make out what was being said.

Lucifer had offered you a night in his room.

He didn't even wait to hear your answer. He was so wrapped up in trying not to snap⏤he had the most control out of all of them, damn it, and he wouldn't let his jealousy and greed stop that⏤that he got up out of his chair and left the house without even saying a word. Left his D.D.D, wallet, and keys on the belfry, and slammed the door behind him.

He hadn't even stopped to listen to you say,"No."

You waited for Mammon to return, even after everyone else retired to bed. You deliberately ignored the suggestive brow raise that Lucifer gave you as he big you goodnight, nervously clutching Mammon's D.D.D in your hands and watching the door nervously. You were too worried to even think about that now, not even what it meant.

You tried desperately to contact him through your pact, but he was either ignoring you or had cut off the connection somehow. As far as you knew, he had never cut the connection before⏤Satan had told you that Mammon almost always kept his pact marks with the witches closed, but exclusively left yours open for use. And now it was closed or entirely useless.

The clock hand ticked past eleven, twelve, and approached one without Mammon giving even the slightest sign of showing back up. You would normally text him by now, but he had left his D.D.D and wallet, and it was raining so hard outside that your gut clenched painfully at the thought of him walking in the rain without even a way to call for help.

It wasn't like he would call you, though. He never did, even if it was clear he needed it; his brothers were cruel, even if it wasn't completely obvious to any of them that they were. They always thought the worst of him, even though he thought the best of them always. You saw it in his easy submissiveness, the carefully orchestrated plans to get them to interact with him even if it was in anger. You didn't understand why he would go to such lengths to earn even the slightest of attentions from his brothers; you had tried desperately to offer him that kind of affection, but he pushed you away every time, like it wasn't what he wanted.

You had no clue what to do anymore.

When it became clear that you were sitting up for nothing, you went upstairs to take a shower. A hot one, one that you would regret later when your nerves were screaming at you to stop and turn down the heat, but you needed something to take your mind off of Mammon and the insane need to go outside in the storm and find him. A shower was the best way to do that.

As you got the water running and set out your favorite pajama set, you took the time to look at the pact mark sitting proudly on your hip⏤perhaps greedily, you second guessed. It devoured the expanse of your pelvic bone, diving down the curve of your hip to lick at the start of your thigh, curling into the valley between hip and leg. It was a startling golden yellow, more vibrant than a tattoo, and held more heat than the rest of your body. Your other pact marks never felt like Mammon's; they were cut off, blocked, and nearly transparent on your skin. You never asked them why.

And, as odd as it sounded, you felt it was too personal to even try to.

You stayed in the shower for a good while, waiting until your fingers pruned and all of the worry had seeped out of your body. But the moment you stepped out of the shower and pulled your nightclothes on, your thoughts went straight back to Mammon, worrying⏤what if he had gotten called by one of those witches? What if he had gotten trapped in town?

On the way back to your room, you peeked inside Mammon's bedroom. It was dark, still, and not a thing had been moved, from what you could tell. So you shut it, gently, and padded down to your door and slipped inside before any of the other brothers could bother you. You didn't know if you could deal with Asmo's teasing or Lucifer's suggestions right now without blowing up and going to Purgatory Hall, or chasing after Mammon.

Flicking the light on with an angry sigh, you tore the towel off of your head and looked towards your desk for your D.D.D⏤and froze.

There, with his elbows propped on his knees and head bowed, was Mammon. Rain water dripped from his hair and landed in solid droplets on the carpet floor; his jacket had been abandoned, his white t-shirt nearly transparent and clinging to his lean frame; he was thoroughly soaked to the bone, and yet he wasn't even shivering like you would if you had stepped outside. Steam from his abnormal body temperature evaporating the water curled into the air; your room felt half like a sauna.

"Mammon?" You breathed, rushing over to him in relief. He didn't move or acknowledge you as you gripped his shoulders and pushed him back to look at his face. "Oh, Mammon…"

He looked like he had been sent through the wringer and back. A fresh bruise was blooming on his jaw, already fading rapidly with his healing. He had several scratches on his cheek and near his eye. His lip looked to have been busted open several times, the wound not quite healing completely. All of the scrapes and cuts were dirty, hindering his power to some extent⏤or he was holding back, as usual, because he felt he deserved it.

Mammon had gone looking for a fight and, clearly, had found one. Several, by the looks of it.

With shaking fingers, you tipped his head back and examined the scrapes more thoroughly by your lamp. Traced the skin with a pained grimace. "Mammon, what happened to you?"

He didn't answer. You didn't know if you wanted to hear one.

"Let's get these cleaned up, okay? But get out of those wet clothes, please. I'm sure you have a pair of sweatpants in here from that heatwave last week."

When you moved away from him and turned your back to rifle through your closet to find the first aid kit⏤you had invested quite heavily in it after realizing how prone you were to "accidents" with the brothers⏤you heard the sound of wet clothes being peeled off and dropped to the floor. It took everything you had in you not to imagine the way the fabric parted from his skin, glistening in the light and beads of water tracking down his neck from his hair.

You tore open a few packs of alcohol wipes and bandaids, listening to him shuffle from your chair to your bed. He let out a faint groan as he sat down, the springs shifting and popping underneath, and you winced at the thought of him hurting. He probably was in some pain, if he had gotten into as many fights as you thought he had.

When you were sure he had made himself at least partially decent, you turned around and made a pointed effort not to let your eyes sink directly to the indentations of his hips or the faint dusting of pale hair that vanished into the sweatpants.

With all of your supplies on the bed beside him, you nudged yourself between his legs and moved his face up where you could clean the wounds out properly. He didn't even fight you as you moved his head around, hands coming up to rest lightly on the sides of your legs when you were close enough that your body was a hair's breath away from touching his.

Something was seriously up with him, but you didn't even know where to start.

"These look awful," was all you could say as you picked up an alcohol wipe and began cleaning the outside of the wounds. Gravel and dirt came away on the cloth. His eyebrows furrowed at the sting, but that was all of the reaction you got. A normal Mammon would be milking it for all it was worth; but instead, he was completely, utterly silent. "I hope whoever did this is crying in a back alleyway, just so you know."

His lip quirked. Just a bit.

When you were done with the scratches and the deep gash near his eyebrow, you moved on to the gastly split in his lip. When you ran the alcohol wipe over it, it bled anew, aggravated by the sudden movement. You dabbed at it carefully after that, unaware as Mammon carefully began following the curls of his pact mark peeking out of your pajama shorts.

"Ya didn't have to do that," he whispered when you were finished. His voice was completely hoarse, as if he had been yelling at the top of his lungs for the past three hours, when he spoke. "I could'a done it myself."

"You could have, but you were already here." You tossed the bloody wipes in the trash can beside your bed, then settled your hands on his shoulders. The skin was cold from the rain, but underneath you felt the demonic heat surging just under the surface. You half expected him to stutter out an objection and shove you away. It didn't happen. "And… I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Wha' for?" Mammon sneered in reply. His lip cracked open and a thin line of blood ran down his chin. "Wasn't like anyone else was worried. Luci never is."

"Lucifer?" You inquired, feeling his fingers tighten on your legs as you uttered the name. The controlled bunching of muscles against the pads of your fingers, moving as he stiffened up. "What does he have to do with this?"

Mammon snorted. Whoever this was, you weren't familiar with them; the scummy second born had vanished. In his place was this raw, angry man who had no idea what to do with his anger except put it out on someone else.

"When does he not?" He huffed. His breath ruffled the slowly drying strands of hair near your collarbone. "He's got everything ta do with this. I could've killed him, then. But I did'n. I had to leave. Do somethin'."

"What…? What did he…?" Your thoughts drew back to dinner; at what Lucifer had asked you. Offered you, since it was your decision. You had told him no, but Mammon had stormed out before that. It had been odd, but Asmo had assured you it happened all the time… But now, you had a sinking feeling in your gut that told you it was for a good reason. "Oh."

"Uh-huh." Mammon pushed you away then, gently, and got to his feet. His eyes were fixated on the door. "I'm gonna go ta bed. 'Night."

"W-wait!" You grabbed his wrist and pulled him back; or tried to, anyways. He stopped, half turned his head to you to listen. "I didn't… You just… You left before I answered. I told him no."

He laughed, sarcastic and sharp. "Sure you did."

"I did. I mean, I really did tell him no." You watched the muscle in his jaw tic. "You really worried me, Mammon, leaving like that. I thought something bad had happened to you…"

"Is tha' all that stopped ya?" His voice was painfully soft. "From tellin' him yes? Me leavin'?"

Your stomach rolled. You hadn't intended on telling him like this, but there was no other option. You could let him leave, let him hate both you and Lucifer forever; or, you could tell him that you loved him, and erase that hard frown on his face.

It was obvious what you chose.

"Mammon." You approached him carefully, releasing his wrist the closer you got to him. You stood toe to toe with him, him a little taller than you were, and reached up to hold his face in your palms. His expression didn't change, but you felt him tensing, felt his entire body shift at the touch. He looked so sad, angry, and fatally jealous all at once that it made your heart hurt to even look at him. "I told Lucifer no because I don't love him. I love you⏤the great Mammon, avatar of greed, the scummy second born. Not him. Just you."

And before he could register your words, you rose up on your toes and kissed him. You were gentle, mindful of his split lip, and felt the slow pull of his face turn into shock.

You pulled away, just so you could meet his gaze, noses brushing. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, and a faint blush had crept up his cheeks. He suddenly felt far too warm, the rain completely evaporating off of him in wispy curls. You watched him swallow, his throat working around a knot.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same," you whispered, reluctance in your tone as you lowered yourself to your heels. Your hands dropped from his face to rest lightly on his chest. "I didn't know what I was⏤"

Your breath left your lungs when you were scooped up, pressed so close to him that you felt every muscle against your body flex, his body heat sinking through the flimsy silk pajamas you wore. His lips pressed brutally against yours, hard and searching, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

You pulled away, desperate for air. He chased your lips before you could take a breath, claiming them once more, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth. You tasted blood, but it wasn't yours; it was oddly sweet, blooming from his split lip. He didn't seem to mind, tongue swiping against the part of your mouth deliciously.

Mammon shifted your weight abruptly, bringing you up by your legs to position you higher. Your locked your ankles around his waist, fearful of falling on the floor, and his hands snuck up the backs of your thighs and under the silk of your pajama shorts, gripping the flesh in a bruising hold.

"Mammon," you gasped when he released your lips, dragging his mouth down the side of your cheek to press kisses to the hollow of your throat. "I don't… Are you s-sure?"

"Sure o' what?" His voice was rough, grainy with lust when he pulled back from your neck. You watched as his eyes, normally a brilliant cerulean blue, darkened when witnessing the flush of your face, the swell of your lips. He held your weight with an arm under your legs, the other coming up to brush your lips with his thumb.

"Of… this." You swallowed deeply when he moved his hand down to cup the side of your neck, fingers hovering over the fluttering pulse of your artery. "Me. I'm just a human. You even said so yourself⏤"

"I lied." He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. His entire body relaxed, as if that anger and tension and jealousy had been drained out of him on one fell swoop. "You ain't just any human. You're my human. Got it?"

That was as close to a confession as you were going to get. The honesty in his eyes was overpowering; the scarlet flush of his cheeks hot underneath your questing fingers; even his heartbeat told you all that you needed to know.

He meant it.

"Got it," you whispered faintly. He grinned then, a flash of teeth, and began walking towards your bed. "What…?"

Mammon dropped you on the bed like a dead weight. The back of your head hit one of your softest pillows and you squirmed to get comfortable as he parted your legs and moved himself between them, placing his hands on either side of your face.

You stilled, a deer in headlights as you met his predatory gaze with your own. His pupils had shrunk into narrow slits, much like his demon form's when he was irritated. But then he seemed to calm down, his aggression softening, his pupils returning back to normal. His fists relaxed on either side of your head.

"Sorry," he croaked, leaning down and burying his face in the curve of your shoulder. Your eyes fluttered closed as he placed kisses upon the skin there. "Almost lost it there. Figured ya didn't wanna deal with that right now."

"You mean you almost shifted?" You inquired, humming pleasantly underneath his attentions. He was placing hickeys wherever he could reach, moving his hands to sneak up your shirt and take a firm hold of your hips. "Mammon?"

"Mmf. Yeah." The pale haired demon shifted between your legs, but this time you clearly felt his arousal thigh, hot and pressing against the sweatpants he wore. He moved again, this time hissing right in your ear when he pressed firmly against your heat, the silk shorts and underwear already damp. "Shit, [Name]. Shit. I ain't gonna last long like this."

You had half a mind to tell him, desperate for friction he wasn't giving you, to just go for it raw. But he seemed to have other plans in mind, shimmying down your body. You whimpered at the loss of contact, attempting to rub your thighs together, but his hands came down on your knees and spread them apart.

"Uh-uh." Mammon hooked his fingers in the waistband of your pajama pants and panties, dragging them down and off of your body. You gasped at the feel of cool air between your legs, automatically attempting to close them again, but Mammon nudged them back open and settled between them. "There. Look at ya, all wet and ready ready for me."

"Mammon…" you whined. You fisted your hands in the pillow beneath your head.

"Are ya still sure?" When you looked down between your legs, at his face, he looked hesitant. Unsure. His fingers ghosted around your knees but never went farther. Insecurity was creeping in and you cursed his brothers for making him this way; you were absolutely certain that, before they had fallen, he hadn't been like this. But then he wouldn't have been Mammon. "I, uh, don't wanna force ya into somethin' ya don't want."

You smiled reassuringly and sat up, moving your hands to cradle his face once more. He leaned into the kiss you offered him, hands sinking into the bend of your hips. You pulled back, stroking his cheekbones with your thumbs. The scratches and gashes had already healed. "I'm sure, Mammon. I've wanted this for… a while now. If you're having second thoughts…"

"No." It was a growl; but he almost immediately became a little embarassed by it. He ran his hands up your back and fiddled with the clasp of your bra. "No. I'm not havin' second thoughts. I'd be stupid if I did."

You pulled your shirt off when he had managed to unhook your bra, tossing both items somewhere on the floor. You then reached for him again, smattering kisses all over his face. You felt his skin grow hotter under the affection, felt him press as close as he could in the position he was in. "Pants off. I feel way underdressed."

He snickered, fully back to himself, and wormed out of the sweatpants, kicking them off on the floor. He didn't give you time to admire him in his full glory, lit with the gentle light of your lamp, and got on his knees, dragging you into his lap.

You felt him⏤all of him⏤pressing against you, as close as a second skin, unnaturally warm and smooth. He didn't move to kiss you and instead let you thread your fingers through his hair, staring at your face with adoring eyes.

If he had been anyone else, they would have told you they loved you. What came out of his mouth as he moved in to rest his forehead on your shoulder, kissing your collarbone, was far better than any simple 'I love you'.

"My human," he breathed. He rolled his hips against you, devouring the sharp inhale you took at the sudden friction. "No one else's."

"No one else's," you agreed, a cracked moan passing your lips when he rolled against you once more, following a deep, hard rhythm that you had no doubt he would be mimicking inside you in short order. "I love you, Mammon. I really, really do."

He grunted into your shoulder, unwilling to give up the dry thrusts he was using to maintain his sanity. You felt his acknowledgement of the words in the gooseflesh rising all over his body. You smothered a loud cry into his neck when one particular upward roll of his hips had the head of his cock pressing sweetly into you. Just for an instant, and then it was gone, with him mumbling,"Shit. Up."

You lifted your hips obediently, following the urging of his hand on your hip. He slipped his free fingers into you, groaning against your breasts when you unintentionally dug your fingers into his hair and pulled him closer.

A few strokes and they were gone, leaving you nearly irate with need. You squirmed, close to reaching down and stimulating yourself, but he batted your hand away and positioned himself at your entrance.

"Gonna be a tight squeeze," he whispered against your breast,"but I doubt ya have the patience for anythin' else."

"You're not wrong," you whispered, words muffled by a moan as he finally sank inside you. It was most definitely a tight squeeze; the bare thrusts he had given you before weren't indicative of his size in the least. You gripped his shoulders, half in pain half in pleasure as you lowered yourself at your own pace, eyes watering dangerously⏤with happy tears, you noted, feeling the antsy flutter of your heart.

He rubbed your back and let out sharp exhales the more of him you took in. When you finally hit the hilt, hips flush against his, he locked his arms around you and whispered, strained,"Don't. Move. Please."

You froze in place. Listened to him breathe deep, not just because of the threat of him orgasming right then and there, but because you felt his body temperature skyrocket. Felt the bristling of his back as his wings threatened to tear through his human form. Felt heat against your cheek where his horns would be.

"Mammon?" You asked quietly, concerned. "Are you alright?"

Mammon took a few deep, calming breaths, before placing a kiss on your neck. "Yep. Just a minute. Gotta… shit, hold on."

And you were falling onto your back, Mammon pushing past what you thought you had already taken, and sitting far more deeply within you than you had expected. Your mouth popped open at the sweet burn of being stretched, turning into a moan when he pulled out and sunk back inside.

"Better," he mumbled to himself, reaching up and lacing his fingers with yours. Your fingers tightened against his as he repeated the motion, rolling his hips and teasing you relentlessly. "You alright?"

"Perfect." You locked your ankles somewhere above his tailbone and leaned up, catching him in a deep kiss. He pressed you back down, unconcerned as his weight bore down, and ran his tongue over your bottom lip. You nipped at the sore scab on his bottom lip before allowing his tongue to move past your mouth, swiping against yours almost lovingly.

Then, he began to move. Your legs clamped tight against his hips, moving with each thrust he gave you, deep and pointed and ramming against the sweet spot every time. Every rock of his hips was solid, measured, and had you to the brink of tears once more.

He broke from the kiss and buried his face in your neck, panting hard. You could already feel the pressure behind your navel building, curling into a feeling that you couldn't ignore. You managed to bury your scream in your pillow just seconds before it came, teeth boring down on the fabric as your orgasm rocked through you like an earthquake.

Mammon continued on, this time a little less controlled, chasing his own release as you rode out yours, chanting your name desperately. You felt yourself clamp down on him, arousal building once more at the desperation in his voice, and just as he reached his peak, you heard the whoosh of wings, felt the swelling inside you reach a head, and teeth sink down into your shoulder.

He came hard, slamming himself back inside you with one final thrust, every muscle in his body as tight as a strung wire. His hands tightened against yours with enough force that you almost were sure he would break your fingers in half.

All at once, he relaxed against you, wings stretched pleasantly into the air. You giggled tiredly and touched one, startled when he twitched inside you.

Mammon leaned back and pushed up onto his hands, meeting your amused gaze with an almost horrified and bewildered look. "I couldn't stop it."

"I know." You laughed and slung an arm around his neck, dragging him down into a sloppy kiss. "You bit me, though."

"Yeah." He sounded sheepish now, but you detected a smug undercurrent as he reached up and traced the brand new mark on your shoulder. Take that, Lucifer. You'd notice it in the morning and, hopefully, not beat him into next week for it. "Sorry 'bout that."

"Mm. It's fine." You sighed when he pulled out of you and tugged his sweatpants back on. His wings and horns vanished like they had never been there. "What are you doing?"

"I was goin' back to my room." Mammon blinked at you as if it was obvious. "Why?"

"I wanted you to stay." You rolled over and patted the open spot beside you. "Just for tonight, if you're uncomfortable with that⏤"

"Hell no, move over for the great Mammon!"

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is appreciated! did you like it? yes? no? 💕


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